In the Arms of War
by SeiyruKazohu
Summary: Sniper finds tends to find that spending time at the fort is relatively boring. Except when Scout is around. Language. Other stuff. Bad summary.
1. Chapter 1

Sniper sits at the ready, high atop 2Fort at his favorite perch inside RED's tower. A pull of the trigger, an enemy Demoman falls to his knees. Another and a solder is knocked into the murky water separating the two bases. The rugged Australian smirks, two more perfect headshots. Be professional and be efficient was his motto, after all. Although, what would've that mattered? His enemies would respawn in their base soon, all healed of their wounds and ready to fight again. He shakes his head, then he would just end their lives once again. Yes, it was a vicious cycle; being sent to purgatory and back, but as a hired mercenary, it was what he was being paid to do. If he ever cared for his enemies on the battlefield, Sniper wouldn't have been around long.

Two blue figures now grace his scope, a Heavy and Medic combo. He focuses on the Medic first, finishing the doctor off with a single bullet through the man's chest. Now onto his partner...

"Hey Snipes." In a matter of seconds, he drops his rifle and pulls out his kukri, pointing it at the source of the voice.

Sniper relaxes, realizing that its just his own team's Scout.

Scout becomes defensive, "Whoa, its just me, slugger. 'S not like I'm gonna backstab ya or anything."

Sniper sheathes his dagger, "Can't be too careful, wombat." He picks up the rifle and eyes through the scope; the Heavy he was aiming for was long gone.

He grumbles, what was this kid doing up here anyways? He was supposed to attempt to capture BLU's intel, not startling Sniper into losing his target. If the boy was up here though, did that mean Sniper was visible from the ground?

The Australian looks over, Scout was sitting on a crate in the corner, fiddling with some jarate. He tilts the jar back and forth, watching the liquid inside splash around.

"How did you know I was up here?" Sniper asks, hoping that the Bostonian just happened to have wandered up into his "nest". "You didn't see me from below, did you?"

"Nah," Scout answers. "I saw you climb up here at the beginning of the mission. I got bored so I thought that I'd come up here and hang out with you."

"You're here to fight, not to bother me." Sniper informs him. _Now get out of here ya spastic lil' gremlin. Don't need ya to attract any attention._

"Yea, but I'm lonely y'know? You're the only one who seems to put up with me. Everyone else is too busy to "babysit" me. I'm twenty-three and they treat me like I'm a kid. Well, 'cept Pyro. Can't understand the fucking mute, though. Wish he'd just take off that damned mask. Speaking of masks, I wonder what our spy looks like under his? Don't think I've ever seen him with his off either. Maybe I'll sneak in his room when he's sleeping. I could be a spy if I wanted to; I'm super stealthy, Snipes. Betcha didn't know that did ya? 'Course it's much more entertaining to run up to someone and blow their face off with my scattergun. Then it's all like, 'You got owned!'. 'Specially when it's the enemy Heavy, dude thinks he's so tough. I'd love to just pop him one and take that precious sandwich of his. Seem to always see him laughing and eating it while we're getting dominated. I-"

"Damn it gremlin, do ya ever shut up?" Sniper puts down his rifle and rubs his forehead. He couldn't concentrated with the scout behind him, yapping his head off. "Man can't concentrate on his work with all that noise comin' out of your mouth."

Scout shrugs, "If ya wanted me to leave, you should've just said so, Snipes. Besides, it's 'bout time BLU got a taste of this." The Bostonian flexed his right arm, although Sniper couldn't any change in muscle definition. "I've been working out. Ain't gonna get the girls in Teufort if I ain't got any guns."

Sniper nods his head. He'd seen Scout in the resupply ward before, lifting weights. Poor boy couldn't pick up anything over about forty pounds. The Australian decides to just agree with him. The faster he left, the faster Sniper could get back to his favorite activity, picking off heads.

Scout waves to the man as he heads back towards the main area of the base. The Aussie was alright; he decided. Much better than that two-faced, smooth, sarcastic bastard that was their spy. Scout couldn't stand the guy; always picking on him, always belittling him.

Bump.

Great. Scout reaches over and rubs his left shoulder. He accidentally ran into the corner, thinking of that slimy weasel. He wishes he could hate all spies. They ran around, either cloaked or disguised as his comrades; sapping sentries, taking intel, causing havoc in general. Worst part was that they were as hard as hell to find.

Scout thinks about that for a second. No, the worst part was having to be backstabbed, being betrayed.

He looks back at Sniper, now standing, looking into the scope of his rifle. Scout smiles, he sort of admired the man, the way he was so dedicated to his work and how patient he was. How-

Scout squints his eyes; for a split second he thought he saw the moving silhouette of a man. He wasn't completely sure though. It could have just been the wind whipping the dust up against Sniper's frame. He wasn't going to leave though, not with the chance of a spy in their midst.

The boy moves to see who the sniper fired had fired at. The dead body of the enemy's Pyro laid in front of their base, blood seeping from the single wound in the chest. Scout shudders, the thought of respawning scared him, the entire process was entirely too painful.

His eyes jut back to Sniper, and the blue silhouette behind him that quickly seemed to take definition to it.

There wasn't enough time to pull out his pistol and fire. "Watch out!" Scout yells.

Sniper quickly looks towards the boy, taking notice of the man behind him, wielding a pocket knife, ready to strike.

Scout thought about the pain of going through the respawn system. He wasn't going to let his own teammate get stabbed. As Sniper whipped out his own knife, Scout charges at his attacker, wrapping his arms around the man's frame. Sniper tries to grab the boy but it was too late. His momentum had knocked both him and the spy off of the tower.

Scout cringes and wraps himself tighter around the spy as the plummet to the ground. The Doctor had always told them to be careful while outside on the upper floors of the base; the respawn's healing system wasn't as effective as being shot with a Medi-gun. If something strenuous happened to the body before the respawn, there wasn't any guarantee that they'd come back to life unscathed.

A sharp, crippling pain surges through the boy's back as he collides with the surface of the water. He felt the cool chill of the water against the New Mexican heat slowly submerge his body. He opens his eyes, other than the initial collision with the water surface, he didn't feel any pain; and it seemed that neither did the BLU Spy that he brought along with him. The spy grabs his neck, attempting to keep him underwater and drown the boy.

"Steady... Quit squirming, wombat. Let me get a clear shot of that mongrel's head." Sniper mutters to himself, cocking his rifle. Scout had saved him from a painful experience and he wasn't about to let the boy die.

Scout kept kicking at his attacker, thrashing about, trying to pull the spy's hands away from his neck. It had happened before, but he didn't want to drown; he didn't want to die.

He felt his chest grow tighter, his heart beat faster, his body struggling to breathe. He needed air, and he needed it soon. The water soon tasted bitter as the spy's grip seemed to have released. Flailing, and attempting to remove his head from the water, Scout gasps, taking a breath larger than he had ever done before. The body of the BLU Spy laid floating face-down in the water, blood tainting the water around it. Scout looks towards his base. Sniper waved down towards him. The Bostonian smiles and swims towards the sewer pipe that leads into RED's basement.

"Y'okay, wombat?" Sniper pats the boy's back. Scout was trying to get himself together and to get all the excess water out of him.

He takes a deep breath and nods, "Yea, I'm fine. Sorry 'bout that."

Sniper chuckles and rubs the boy's hair, "You saved my life, ya little gremlin. Don't be sorry. Did the right thing, ya did."

Scout takes another breath and shakes his head. "Nah man, I'm glad I helped you. I'm just sorry that my father was a douche bag and tried to backstab you."

"You said your father attacked me?"

"Yea, Armand Montierré, the BLU Spy, is my father. Well, step-father actually. I call him my father though, the only one of my siblings who does. Never really knew my real father; he died in a car accident when I was about four. Armand's nice enough, well, when you're not taking a knife to the back."

Sniper was amazed. Why would the Administrator pair them up against each other? It was discouraged for them to even know each others' names, let alone someone of the opposite faction.

"How did that work? The Administrator goes to great lengths to keep us from knowing anyone on BLU, and you've apparently been paired up against your step-father."

"Well, we don't share the same last name, maybe that could be why? I never even intended on joining RED or coming to the fort. Got recruited while I was in boot camp for the military, some bigwigs were watching me and were surprised by my agility, so they asked if I would consider becoming a scout for Reliable Excavation Demolition. It seemed to pay well so I agreed and was put under contract for five years. Didn't realize I was fighting against Armand until a few months in; didn't even realize he was a spy either 'till then."

"Interesting, mate. Let me see your back, that was a nasty fall you took there."

Scout backs away, "No way Snipes, I only lift up my shirt for chicks. I might be surrounded by all you burly men, but I'm not gay. Besides, it doesn't hurt."

"Never even said I was interested in ya, wombat. I just want to check it out, in case we have to take ya to the doc."

Scout rolls his eyes, "Fine."

Sniper cringes when he lifts up Scout's shirt. Multiple bruises of different sizes and colors cover the boy's back like polka-dots. Scout yelps and spins around when Sniper touches the large, deep-purple bruise between his shoulder blades.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He apprehends.

"I'm taking you to Medic. That does not look pretty, and I'm going to take a wild guess, but it hurts like hell, doesn't it?"

"I already told you, I'm fine. It doesn't hurt unless you put your fucking ape-hands on it. I'm not going to see the doc."

Sniper tilts down his glasses and eyes the boy. "Listen, Scout. I know you've got this whole tough guy act going on. Don't know who you're trying to impress, don't really care to know, but you're coming with me to see the doctor. Damn it, half of your back is turning as black as Demoman's skin. You can't just stand there and tell me you feel perfectly fine. You fell over two stories, you're lucky that you weren't killed on impact."

Scout darts his eyes away and bites his lower lip. Yea, it hurt. It hurt so bad Scout felt like crying out of pain. What hurt more though was how Armand, his father, gripped him when they were submerged. The look on his face was terrifying to Scout. He had truly tried to drown his own son until Sniper intervened.

Why? Why would Armand try to do that? Yes, they were on opposing factions, but they were still family. Scout thought he had an unspoken truce with the Frenchman, that neither one of them would harm the other. How could his father break that truce? How could he...

Scout winces as he feels tears starting to roll down his cheeks. He didn't want Sniper, the one man he seemed admire most on the team, to see him like this. He wanted to be alone, not to see Medic, but just alone in his room. Maybe for the rest of the day, even.

"Hey, gremlin, what's wrong?" Sniper takes a hold of the boy's right hand.

"He-he tried to kill me, Snipes."

"Well, ya he did. It's what he's paid to do. You're paid to kill him also, remember? What, did ya think that the two of you could go the entire term of yer service without getting into any kind of conflict? I'd hate to tell ya boy, but you're blissfully disillusioned then."

Scout wipes his eyes, "You know what, fuck it. Let's go find Medic. I need to see how injured I really am."

Sniper nods. Obviously, Scout didn't want to hear the truth, and Sniper wasn't going to force it on him. The boy would find out on his own that war changed people, even your own family.

***Author Note: Yes, I'm going to be giving the mercs each a name. Except the ones that Valve has already given. Eg: Demoman, Engineer. I feel that this allows the characters to get to know one another more, and for the reader to also become closer to the characters. Also I will be introducing exactly one OC in this story. Just letting everyone know beforehand.***


	2. Chapter 2

Scout never enjoyed going into the infirmary, especially after a respawn. The entire room, with its large machines and constant use of dull colors almost made it seem void of any life. The one touch that lifted the boy's spirits were the Medic's pet doves that resided within.

He laughs to himself, remembering how one of them, Archimedes, once nestled into his chest cavity during surgery, only to have been trapped inside for a short time until Medic had realized the bird was in there.

Archimedes sits on a perch with the other doves, happily chowing down on the seeds Medic had given them when Sniper and Scout enter the infirmary. The birds coo, taking notice of their new guests.

"Something wrong Archimedes?" The German pokes his head out of his office, taking notice of the two men sitting on a bench near the entrance. "Ah, Scout and Sniper, vat can I do for you?"

"Might want to take a look at the boy's back, doc." Sniper nudges the Bostonian to move forward.

Scout lifts up the back of his shirt for the doctor to see. Medic gently runs his hand along the numerous bruises adorning the boy's back.

He winces at Medic's touch. "Do ya mind? It doesn't help when you people keep fuckin' touching it."

"Yes, vell zis shouldn't be a problem; my medi-gun vill patch you up quite nicely. Now tell me Scout, how did zis happen in ze first place?"

"Damn spy tried to backstab Snipes; there wasn't any time to pull out any of my weapons, so I rushed him. We both fell from the tower into the water. Asshole tried to drown me. Luckily, Snipes was there to shoot his fucking head off. Actually, it turned out better than I expected. Fucking prick has to go through the pain of respawning, and I get away with a few bruises." Scout explains.

Medic shakes his head, "You really shouldn't speak of your step-father zat way..."

"You knew?" Sniper was amazed, he had only learned of it today, and the boy must had been here at least four months.

"Vhy of course I knew! I am his doctor, after all. I've got Lawrence's entire medical history on file. Armand personally came in to sign for authorization, in ze same suit he wears on ze battlefield!"

"Lawrence, huh?" Sniper eyed the scout next to him.

"Sh-Shut up!" Scout's face blushed. He truly disliked his name, and Medic even more for saying it. Sniper was his idol, and Scout wanted to be like him; that was the whole reason he kept up his tough guy act, to impress the Aussie. It was hard to act tough with a corny name like Lawrence clinging onto who he was. "'S not like I'm the one who picked it."

Something in Scout was actually glad that the sniper now knew his first name; the way the Australian pronounced it made the boy squirm inside with delight.

"I vouldn't be quick to judge, Jack Mundy. Or should I tell our little scout here about ze sessions you had in high school vith ze counselor?"

"Wasn't judging anybody, doc. Just interesting to hear the little gremlin's actual name, is all."

"Vell, before I heal ze gremlin's bruises, I must go through the standard procedure."

Scout groans, "Seriously Doc? Do I hafta?"

"It's not my rules, you can talk to the Administrator about it."

"Yea, I know. It's a form of spy checking. Doesn't really help when my step-father IS the spy."

"Alright Scout, vat-" The boy cuts him off.

"Name's Lawrence Fitzpatrick, age twenty-three, born August 14th, 1944; I'm a scout for Reliable Excavation Demolition, got seven older brothers, parents names are Laurie Fitzpatrick and Armand Montierré, favorite ball team is the Red Sox, and I enjoy flirting with hot chicks. That answer your questions, doc?"

"Vhy yes, it does. Now let me check your vitals then I'll be ready to patch you up."

Heavy came in as the doctor took Scout's blood pressure.

"Ah! Mikhail! Don't tell me you've been injured also." Medic was surprised to see the Russian.

"We lost. BLU Scout got away with intelligence."

Scout clenches his fists, "Dammit. I could've stopped him if it wasn't for that fucking spy."

"Hmm, yes, disheartening indeed. Although it was to be expected with three teammates missing." In the doorway behind Heavy stands Armand, lighting a cigarette. "And I'll disregard your previous comment about me, Lawrence. Speak ill of me again and I'll see to it that your mother knows."

"What are you doing here, Spy?" Mikhail questions, cracking his knuckles. "Need reminder of whose base you're in?"

Armand smirks, "No need to be hostile, gentlemen. Am I not allowed to worry for my own step-son? I am ze one who arranged his trip to ze infirmary in ze first place."

"Didn't seem like you cared when you were trying to fucking drown me." Scout mutters under his breath.

"So Armand, how was yer respawn?" Sniper scoffs.

"Hardly a pleasant experience, Jack. Our doctor iz worried because of how long it took. He'll be now be watching my times to see if it keeps up, and if it does..."

"Yer goin' under the knife, aren't ya, mate?"

Armand nods, "Precisely. Surgery iz ze only way to fix ze damned chip."

"Hold on Dad, how do you know Sniper's name?" Scout asks.

"I'm a spy, Lawrence. It iz imperative to my job zat I know as much as I can about your entire team."

"Does that mean our spy knows all about BLU?"

"Lucian? I assume zat he would..."

"Please Armand, if you must smoke, do so outside. And Scout, I'd hate to interrupt you pointless chit-chat, but could you please go to ze table and lie on your stomach so I can heal you?"

"Oh yea, haha, I almost forgot. 'Course you can, doc."

Scout removes his shirt and lies down on the metal operating table towards the center of the room. He flinches as his bare chest touches the cold metal beneath it. Noises can be heard behind him while Medic turns on the machine. Scout tilts his head to the left, both his father and Jack had left the room. Moments later he feels the cool beam of the medi-gun hit his back. Being healed was always very soothing to him; the beam was like a gentle summer breeze, renewing him as it whipped against his once fragile body. Although as soon as it came, it seemed to end.

"Glad 't get out of there. It was starting to get stuffy with all those people inside." Jack walks through the halls of RED's base with Armand, ignoring the uncertain glares of his fellow mercenaries as the two men passed them by.

"Yes well, at least its assuring zat Lawrence has been patched up."

"It's been awhile Armand, how've ya been?"

"Oh, its been fine Jack, at least until I took your bullet through my head zis afternoon. On top of being monitored, I respawned with a terrible headache zat still has not gone away." The spy answers, sarcasticely.

"That'll happen to ya, mate. Now ya know how it feels when ya keep sneakin' up and backstabbing me. Only way to describe the pain is that it feels like someone stuck a knife in my back, which they did."

"So, how iz my darling Lawrence? I would visit him more, but you know how it iz with work." Armand asks, casually changing the subject.

"'Bout the same as he always is, I'd say. Seen him practicing his swing yesterday outside the base; damn kid almost broke one of the windows in my camper out. I'd hate to be the next person who takes that boy's ball to their face."

"It's a shame he couldn't make ze team in high school, could have gotten a scholarship to college and not have to be here, fighting in zis war." Armand starts to light a cigarette. "Zat was ze past though, best not to dwell on it."

"Not even going to ask your old friend if he'd like a smoke?"

"Yes, because RED and BLU have settled their differences and we're now 'friends'."

Sniper nudges the Frenchman, "You're right, friends wouldn't have the kind of relationship we share. Maybe you would prefer to call us lovers?"

"Jack, I have told you to drop zat subject, if not for me, but for Lawrence's sake."

"The boy isn't even around, and its not like I'm flirtin' with ya or anything, just askin' for a cig."

"Fine." Armand hands the Australian a cigarette out of his case. "But how would you feel if you found out your father and a teammate of yours were having an affair?"

Sniper reaches into the spy's pocket and pulls out his lighter. "Well, knowing Lawrence, he'd start off by calling us fags and questioning why you would cheat on his mother."

Spy blows a puff of smoke and smiles, "Yes, zat sounds exactly like something he would do."

"I know you're trying to protect the boy, but I wouldn't mind us spending one last night together." Jack wraps his arm around Armand's shoulder. "Besides, you never let me say goodbye."

"No Jack, it iz too risky."

He whispers in the spy's ear, "You're a spy, Armand. You could easily slip away from your base undetected, you've done it before. And its not like I sleep in the barracks anyways."

"If I agree, you'll finally lay zis issue to rest?"

"'Course I will." He slides his hand down to the man's hip.

Armand quickly pushes it away. "Then I shall be at your, err, home, at eight o' clock tonight."

***AU: Hehe, sorry it's taken me so long to post this. I've been busy! (Not playing video games, I swear...) This is a shorter chapter than the first one just because I was already running late and didn't feel like I necessarily needed to add more content to it. Chapter Three shouldn't take as long since I've got the entire basis for the chapter figured out and the first couple of paragraphs already written. Key Word: "Shouldn't"***


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